


When Darkness Falls

by LeastExpected_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Drama, Interspecies, M/M, Multiple Partners, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-04
Updated: 2002-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:01:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25836928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeastExpected_Archivist/pseuds/LeastExpected_Archivist
Summary: by AeloraPippin laments over the loss of Boromir and things left unsaid.
Relationships: Boromir (Son of Denethor II)/Merry Brandybuck/Pippin Took
Kudos: 2
Collections: Least Expected





	When Darkness Falls

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Amy Fortuna, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Least Expected](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Least_Expected), which has been offline since 2002. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Least Expected collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/leastexpected/profile).
> 
> Disclaimer: Not mine - though I do like to borrow them to play with occasionally!  
> Feedback: Yes, please!  
> Story Notes: My first post! After my fourth viewing of LotR, this just seemed outrageously obvious! It may not have been so in the book, but PJ certainly made it stand out!

Pippin lay trembling in the dark.

Somewhere behind him he heard the terrible voices of the ors, grumbling because they could not kill the prisoners; because they were to remain untouched. _Unspoiled_. But this did not refrain their captors from discussing what they would do with the Haflings once they got to where they were going. They seemed to relish the discussion, as if they knew Pippin was listening, as if their only purpose was to instill fear into hearts that were already filled to overflowing.

As frightened as their words continued to make him though, Pippin did not want them to stop. For their cruel and disgusting taunts served to keep him from thinking, from remembering, from experiencing the pain...

Reaching out beside him, Pippin felt through the moss and the dirt until he found Merry's hand, grasping onto it tightly. His friend was either in a deep sleep or unconscious, he could not tell which it was, and he very much wished he were awake, if for no other reason than to know that he did not commiserate alone.

Boromir was dead.

Three simple words that sent a painful shudder through Pippin's tiny form. _Boromir was dead._

The Man of Gondor had stood his ground, defending Merry and Pippin against countless numbers. Though they were unimportant, though their destiny's were not entwined with the Ring like that of Frodo's, he had protected them still, as if it were the most important duty in the world. He had bled for them, died for them...

When Pippin had first met Boromir he had thought little of the Man. There had seemed something threatening about him and certainly Frodo had appeared to have his doubts. But as they set out on their journey, it became apparent that there was more to the Man than power and the desire to use the Ring for the purpose of Man alone.

He had been the one to teach them how to properly defend the attack with their swords. Pippin remembered that day most vividly, high up in the mountains, where Boromir instructed Merry and himself, while Aragorn, Frodo and Sam looked on. Boromir had accidentally nicked Pippin's hand and that had served only to set both Pippin and Merry against him. _For the Shire!_ they had yelled in triumph, taking him down to the ground, though they should not have been able to for his strength was much greater than that of two Hobbits. But down he had allowed them to take him, laughing all the way in a rich baritone voice that had grown very dear to Pippin. And they had tickled him mercilessly and he had tickled back and that was when Pippin had begun to realize the gentle care that Boromir took with them, for he was comprised of all muscle and strength, and yet his fingers had danced across their skin softly, leaving no marks, causing no harm. In fact, his touch had only served to make Pippin desire something more, but the birds sent by Saruman had appeared and the merriment had ended.

It was Boromir who had carried them and sheltered them through the snows of Caradhras, keeping them close to the warmth of his body, where Pippin had first come to know and recognize the scent of him - leather and musk and Man. And it was there that Boromir had quietly whispered that he would allow no harm to come to them.

It was Boromir who had leapt across the chasm in the Mines of Moria, holding both Merry and Pippin tightly within his arms, taking them with him when he could have easily left them behind to find their own way. And in his arms, as he had leapt across that great space, Pippin had felt no fear, only security, safety, an assuredness that all things would be right.

It was in the shelter of Lorien that Pippin and Merry were to discover that Boromir had his fears and uncertainties as well, for all the strength and power that he exerted. They had found him alone, desolate, unwilling to sleep for the nightmares that would plague him. It was their turn to hold him, comfort him, quiet his fears with a touch, a whisper. They had held him in the security of their embrace until he had been willing to face his demons and they had fallen asleep beside one another, secure in the knowledge that they were not alone.

As they had traveled down the River Anduin, Boromir had told them tales of his home, the White City of Gondor. He had described the towers and the banners and the sound of the mighty horns raised in chorus. He told them of his family and how he would be honored to introduce them to his father, the Steward of Gondor. With him, Merry and Pippin made plans to visit his home once their journey reached its conclusion, to sit beside him in the dining hall, ride through the streets and share in the solitude of his most secret places.

But Boromir was dead.

Pippin could but only watch in numb horror as the first of the arrows had pierced his noble breast, bringing him to his knees before them. His blue eyes had met theirs for a brief moment and in that precious glance, Pippin had known he was pledging his life to them. He would protect them until the last breath left his body. And though Pippin had desperately wanted to rage against it, had wanted to deny the silent promise, Boromir had done exactly that. In the grand scheme of things, the lives of two insignificant Hobbits had meant nothing. But to Boromir they had meant everything.

And as Merry had grabbed up his sword, howling his anger and pain, Pippin had joined him, knowing that death would be preferable to going through life with the knowledge that their beloved gentle giant had given his life for them. Unfortunately, this last request was not to be. The orcs meant not to fight, but had grabbed Merry and Pippin like sacks of vegetables and carried them off. And in those last moments, Pippin had reached out to Boromir, crying out his name and their gazes had locked and Pippin would forever remember the anguish and despair that he had seen in the Man's eyes.

A sob escaped him at the memory and he felt Merry squeeze his hand in caution.

"Now is not the time to grieve," Merry's whisper reached him in the dreadful dark.

"We could not even say goodbye," Pippin whispered back, the tears coursing silently down his cheeks. They would never again know his caring touch, his warm embrace, his gentle kiss. "There was so much to be said. I wanted to tell him -"

"Shh. He knew. Don't think he didn't, Pip." His friend squeezed his hand once more. "We mustn't think of this now. It is too dangerous. We must first think of living and then of escaping, or his sacrifice will have been for naught. We owe his memory more than that, Pip."

"You're right, Merry." Pippin sucked in a sharp breath, attempting to stem the tide of tears but still they came. The pain was too new, too fresh. He could not seem to will it away.

"Sleep, Pip. We both need our strength."

"Merry, if we shouldn't make it through this, I want you to know - "

"Shh. Tell me later. When we're safe." In the darkness, Pippin could feel Merry's smile.

Closing his eyes, Pippin once more saw Boromir dropping to his knees as the orcs carried them off. He saw the desolation, the pain, the regret.

With one last, silent tear, Pippin's heart whispered into the night _Wherever you are now, Boromir, know that your sacrifice is not in vain and that I will love you carry your memory with me all the rest of my days..._


End file.
